Lance groans loudly, forgoing smacking his face in his hands and going straight for banging his head repeatedly against the elevator doors, which Keith thinks is a touch dramatic. But regardless he crosses his arms over his chest and stubbornly refuses to budge from his position.
“Keith. For the love of God.”
“God is dead and I’m not climbing out of a goddamn ten thousand foot elevator hatch with you.”
Keith admittedly puts a tad too much emphasis on the ‘with you’ part of the sentence. It’s obvious in the way Lance stops and lifts his head up and glares at Keith so icily he doesn’t need to squint to make out Lance’s expression in the low emergency lights; his eyes practically burn a hole through Keith’s forehead. Keith winces but doesn’t say anything.
“You have gone toe to toe with a goddamn zombie dictator,” Lance grinds out, “but you’re too much of a pussy to climb an elevator shaft?”
Keith stiffens. “I’m not — shut up!”
Smirking, now, visibly delighted that he’s managed to press Keith’s buttons (God Keith wants to punch him), Lance leans against the elevator wall, hip cocked, feigning nonchalance.
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he says, inspecting his nails like it doesn’t matter. “I just never would have thought that the best pilot out of the Garrison and literal pilot of the Red Lion is, you know, a chicken.”
Keith clenches his fists. Lance is frustrated and bored and pushing Keith’s buttons because there’s fuck else to do. He is. Keith knows this.
But he is so goddamn good at it.
“I’m not a fucking chicken, Cargo Pilot.”
‘Cargo Pilot’ is usually a hole-in-one insult that’s guaranteed to make Lance bristle, sure to make him bare his teeth and go bright red and generally lose his absolute shit. Keith is even sparing in his use of the term, careful not to let it lose its potency.
But because the universe hates him and also Lance is the most annoying motherfucker alive, his smirk only widens, and he flexes his fingers, still fucking casual, still not even bothering to look up in Keith’s direction.
I hate you, Keith thinks, with feeling.
“Sure,” Lance says, without. He shrugs. “Prove it.”
For a second Keith thinks he’s so mad that he might. But then he imagines it fully, pictures his bare back pressed against Lance’s, feet planted on the slippery castle walls, lights probably still out, struggling to put one foot in front of the other and drag each other upright. He thinks of how much effort that would take and how easily he would start to sweat, how easily every shift of their muscles would loosen the friction-borne grip between them, how easily his foot could slip. He thinks of how long a ten thousand foot drop would take, how long he would have to accept that he’s going to die before he splats on the pristine floor.
His stomach turns. His face goes green.
Lance’s jaw drops.
“Oh my God, you’re afraid of heights!”
“I am not!” Keith snaps, because he isn’t, he just has a fucking brain. “It’s just — it’s ten thousand fucking feet, Lance!”
“A pilot!” Lance screeches. “A pilot afraid of heights!”
“You are so goddamn extra!” Keith cries.
Lance makes more vague screeching noises. He gestures furiously at Keith, then pauses, then makes a sound in the back of his throat akin to a loudly dying whale, then gestures back at Keith, then at the ceiling, then at the elevator as a whole. Then he lets out one loud, long, final yell, completely wordless and directed at what Keith can only assume is the heavens, and stops, closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and very calmly crawls onto the floor, belly first, and lays perfectly flat with his face pressed to the tiles.
“I hate it here,” he says serenely. He pauses for a minute, thoughtful. “Also, I hate you.”
“Ditto,” Keith mutters, finally giving up and joining him on the floor. He tips his head back until it thumps on the elevator wall and sighs, loud and long, wondering vaguely if this is punishment for the hundreds of times he mocked Shiro for his fear of squirrels. He truly thinks it might be.
All he wanted was twenty goddamn minutes in the pool. That’s all. He’d have even taken ten. He just wanted to swim a few laps, maybe float for a bit, and pretend he was in a lake somewhere without pressing problems such as saving the universe and the fate of every single soul in it.
Eight minutes, really. Seven.
The lights flicker back on. Lance lifts his head, hopeful, then stretches out one ridiculously long leg (seriously what is the deal with that he’s basically a giraffe, it’s too much, Keith should talk to someone about it because since when were legs allowed to be that — long and shapely, or whatever, it’s weird) and presses the closest button with his toe.
It does nothing. Lance stares at it for a few minutes, as if attempting to bring the elevator alive by manifestation alone, but no life is forthcoming. Lance huffs sadly and returns his face to the floor.
“That’s really disgusting,” Keith says, although he has his fair share of Floor Time. “People walk on this floor all the time.”
Lance doesn’t bother looking up, groaning loudly for several minutes before simply rolling away to the opposite side of the elevator.
“Shut up,” he says finally, after so long Keith almost forgets his original comment. “You just —”
Abruptly he straightens up, pulling the towel off his neck and crawling forward to place it in the middle of the elevator. Keith rolls his eyes so hard it actually hurts, a little.
“You and your commentary stay on the loser stinky mullet half of the elevator,” Lance says. “The pretty half that’s not infected with your rancid vibes belongs to me.”
“Were you trained to be this annoying?” Keith ponders, half out of genuine curiosity. “Like, do you do this on purpose?”
“Ignoring you now,” Lance says primly.
Keith scowls. He’s not — Keith isn’t the one who’s too irritating to be around without going insane.
“I’m ignoring you, asshole.”
Lance doesn’t respond. Keith closes one eye and holds up his thumb and forefinger to the approximate shape of Lance’s face, pretending he’s squishing his head. It brings him great peace.
After a while, though, he starts to get restless. His legs starts bouncing, up and down so fast it’s blurry, and then his fingers start to tap, but the feeling of rustling under his skin only gets worse, spinning faster and faster and coil tightening more and more in his stomach until he just — implodes, really, until his brain goes boom and says if you don’t get moving right this second, and Keith says in response to it, believe me I’m on it. He’s scrambling to his feet before he has the conscious thought to do so, hands moving before he tells them to and pushing him upright, bare feet padding rapidly on the floor as he paces, three steps until he hits the wall then pivot then three steps then pivot then three steps again. Over and over and over. His fingers stop tapping but his shoulders get twitchy; itchy under his skin and on it, sweaty because there’s no airflow and this goddamn elevator is sweltering. Or he’s just hot. He usually runs hot. He’s not sure and he doesn’t care to know, because the pool would have been refreshing but instead he’s stuck in a ten by ten by ten cube stuck somewhere on a ten thousand foot tube and to his right his rival-slash-teammate keeps huffing and rubbing his hands on his arms and muttering to himself.
“Could you maybe cut that out,” Keith snaps, which is entirely unfair because his pacing isn’t quiet, but Keith is three seconds away from attempting to climb the walls and it’s Lance, anyway, when are they not arguing, so it doesn’t matter.
Maybe when you’re having a crisis-brought bonding moment, says a voice in his brain. Stuck elevators are kind of a crisis.
Shut up or I’m going to give myself a concussion, Keith responds to it.
“Not my fault it’s goddamn freezing in here,” Lance snaps.
Keith is made astutely aware of the cooling sweat on his back and grimaces.
“Lance,” he says slowly, “it is not cold in here.”
Lance blows out a breath like the goddamn weight of the world is on his shoulders. He flicks his eyes up to meet Keith’s, who is standing behind his head and leaning down, and somehow manages to seem like the more put-together person between them, which is bonkers.
“I’m anaemic, stupid.”
Keith blinks. Suddenly the air feels very solemn, and he shifts uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.
“I didn’t know you had an eating disorder,” he manages eventually.
Lance’s faces scrunches up in confusion for seven whole seconds before it clears, and he looks at Keith like he is the dumbest man alive and then bursts out laughing.
“That’s — anorexic, you idiot! I don’t have enough blood!”
“Oh,” Keith says, face heating. He scowls as Lance continues to laugh way harder than what was called for, clutching his stomach with tears rolling down his face. He pokes Lance aggressively with his toe, and by that he means his kicks him. “Will you stop — it’s not that funny, dickhead!”
“It really is,” Lance wheezes.
Keith scowls harder. His face is as red as his shorts and the flush is starting to spread down his chest and Lance notices and it only makes him laugh more, because he’s a shithead of the worst kind. “I hope you choke.”
Keith flicks his towel over his head and yanks, embarrassed, stomping to the other side of the elevator as if that will somehow make Lance shut up faster. It doesn’t, obviously, and he hears Lance laugh for several minutes until he finally winds down to giggling, then eventually nothing.
Keith harrumphs quietly to himself. He resolves to sticking in his corner like he should have from the very beginning, until the elevator starts moving again or someone on the team comes to save them. At this point he’s so done he wouldn’t even care if it was Shiro, wouldn’t even care if Shiro gloated about it for eternity (Keith saved his ass from government experimentation, anyway, so he wins by default for the rest of time). He faces his corner and pulls his knees to his chest and starts picking at a loose thread in the seam of his shorts to amuse himself.
Several minutes later, he hears Lance shifting. He ignores it. He pulls at the thread until it comes loose, then busies himself with tying the thread into the most complicated and random knot he can.
A few more minutes later, and there’s the sound of fabric rustling and draping, then quiet cursing. Keith untangles and retangles his knot for the fourth time.
After what must be a half hour, Keith hears the sound of teeth chattering.
He sighs. He looks forlornly at his knot.
“I could just ignore him,” he mutters to himself. “He probably won’t die.”
He thinks of how short Lance’s shorts are. He pinches his own towel in his fingertips, so thin he can practically feel his fingerprints. He remembers blue lips and a clenched jaw and raised gooseflesh.
He sighs loudly, more of a groan, and flicks his ball of thread away.
It takes Lance a few seconds to respond to Keith looming over him, which is worrying. But eventually he cracks open one brown eye and flares up at Keith.
“What,” he mutters. His teeth are chattering so bad it sounds like two words.
“You’re freezing,” Keith says. His voice is softer than he expected it to be.
Lance huffs, closing his eye again and curling further into himself. “No shit.”
Keith frowns. “I’m not.”
“Well, rub it in, why dontcha.”
Keith frowns. “You’re not understanding.”
Lance ignores him. Keith has a sudden and vivid memory of the year Shiro and Adam drove him up to Seattle in the winter so he could be more cultured, or whatever (or less of a desert menace, Adam had argued, and perhaps more inclined to stop biting people), and spent the whole car ride lecturing him about hypothermia.
“It doesn’t take very long to set in,” Shiro had said.
“And once you have it you need to warm up or your heart can stop,” Adam had finished, very serious.
Suddenly Keith starts to feel very panicked.
Lukewarm tea, warm blankets, skin to skin contact with someone who’s warm, were Shiro’s instructions. And then possibly hospital.
Well. Keith has one of those things.
Before he can talk himself out of it, he wraps a gentle hand around Lance’s shoulder, tugging him upright, then pulls him forward so his cradled hands are pressed against Keith’s chest and his head is tucked into the junction of Keith’s neck.
Worryingly, it takes Lance almost thirty seconds to start complaining.
“You smell like mullet,” he whines. But he doesn’t move away. In fact, he burrows closer.
Keith swallows down his worry. “Mullets don’t smell like anything, dumbass.” He brings his hands up to press against Lance’s back. Lance groans, curling deeper into Keith’s hold. His nose is icy and burns a trail across Keith’s shoulder, down his collarbone. Keith’s flush from earlier makes an enthusiastic return, because nothing good still exists in the world.
“I still think you’re annoying,” Lance mumbles. Every move of his lip brushes against Keith’s skin.
“Shut up and focus on not freezing to death,” Keith snaps.
Lance snorts. “I’m not gonna freeze to death, doofus. It’s just a dead elevator. Once I fell asleep on the Garrison rooftop in January and only had to spend three days in urgent care, so basically I can withstand anything.”
Keith pauses. He tries to reconcile the Lance who just said that to the Lance who came up with a life saving plan in thirty seconds on the Balmera to the Lance who threatened to stick Keith in a wormhole to the Lance who smiled and said they made a good team before passing out in Keith’s arms.
“You are a very confusing person,” he says when all the reconciling does absolutely nothing.
“Thank you,” Lance says, sounding pleased.
Keith snorts and tightens his hold. Lance sighs and sags a little. Slowly his fingers stop feeling so much like ice blocks, and his breathing doesn’t sound so erratic. Keith doesn’t know how long it’s been. He stopped trying to count somewhere between when Lance’s cheek squished against his chest and his fingers started tracing featherlight patterns across his skin.
Lance yawns. Keith tries to fight his but ends up yawning anyway.
“Is it bad to let a person with hypothermia sleep?” he mumbles, half-slurring his words.
Lance hums. “‘M not hypothermic.”
“Dunno. Could be.”
He sighs again, a puff of air against Keith’s neck, and spreads his palms against Keith’s chest, flat. “‘M not. You’re too warm.” He pauses. “Freak.”
His tone is fond. The corners of Keith’s lips quirk up. “Weirdo.”
“Mhm.”
He falls asleep trying to count Lance’s breaths. It’s — groundbreaking, somehow.
———
(“Oh, my God.”
Keith cracks open bleary eyes, lifting a hand to rub his face. Lance groans from his place on Keith’s chest — in a puddle of drool, why is that not nearly as revolting as it should be — and snatches Keith’s wrist way faster than he should be able to as groggy as he is, placing it back around his waist.
“Oh, my God,” the voice repeats, gleeful.
“Shut up, Shiro,” Keith mutters. “Fuck.”
It takes him a minute.
His eyes fly open at the same time as Lance’s, and they look at each other, and then Keith is being shoved and kicked at the same time somehow and Lance is scrambling backwards at the speed of light, screeching. A loud bang makes Keith look over and he discovers his brother, who is dead to him, collapsed on the floor, laughing so loud Zarkon can probably hear him.
“What — Shiro — go — stop fucking laughing, you piece of shit!”
Lance continues to screech. Keith whips a towel at him.
Hello! Do you know any fics where it’s like a love triangle but of course klance comes out on top!
hi! definitely :) - k
Breathe Into Me by cyberkogane (14/14 | 52,820 | Mature)
Keith thinks he can now handle most things that come his way: evil aliens, exploding warships, his own sharp teeth and space wolves. But then something new happens, something he never expected but should have anyway.
Lance is in a relationship.
And for some reason, Keith is distraught that the recipient of the blue paladin's affections aren't for, well, him.
//violence //blood & gore
(lance/galra oc)
The Defenders by korns (21/21 | 107,906 | Teen and Up)
Keith just returned from his world-traveling to reconquer the fallen pieces of his father's illegal empire. The industry is known for the production and distribution of the extraordinary substance that awakens superpowers in the 21st century. He and his best friend and relative, Shiro, vow to destroy the Defenders responsible for breaking the Kogane Industry—specifically the one who landed the killing blow on Keith's father.
Lance, the Defender responsible, has a dilemma: on top of dealing with the evil dark guys chasing him around every corner, he swore to himself that he'd win the heart of the beloved, the perfect, the wonderful Hunk Garrett who works at the flower shop across from Lance's day job at an Alterra coffee shop in downtown Milwaukee. Not only that, but this mysterious fella has started to frequent Alterra, and the existential crisis his customer, Keith, thrusts on him is far too much to handle.
Neither of them aware of each others' everyday appearances, Keith falls head over heals for Lance at Alterra, and Lance considers that perhaps... it wouldn't be so bad to love someone other than Hunk.
I'm going to be real with y'all, I am trying so hard to stay invested in this story but I don't particularly like how I've written it. I'm going to finish it, I don't feel like I've given y'all the best story and I'm sorry. But, I hope even despite its flaws it can be enjoyable
Chapter 9: Just Confess
AO3!
Chapter 8
First Chapter!
Word Count: 1,730
---
“And a bowl for you,” Hunk passed Lance a bowl as he took a seat on the chair next to the couch. Shay immediately sat on his lap, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Thanks, buddy,” Lance grabbed a couple of pieces of popcorn from the bowl, holding it out for Keith to take a handful. He mumbled a small thanks in return and everyone fell silent. Their eye on the screen.
Lance had his arm on the back of the couch, basically having his arm around Keith. Who sat next to him, his arms crossed over his own chest. Keeping a distance between him and Lance. No one could really say what they were watching. Some random comedy horror movie. It was entertaining, funnier than scary.
Shay has become more tucked into Hunk as the movie droned on. Her chuckles softly as Hunk gently traces shapes into her back with his fingers. Lance had sunk down into the couch a bit more. Keith ever so slightly leaning into Lance’s side. His head found a home on Lance’s shoulder.
The flash of a light.
“Awe you two almost look like a couple!” Pidge turned their phone around, holding it up for the boys to see.
Lance smiled, “awe we are cute. Keith look at us!”
Keith scowled slightly at the photo, swatting Lance’s hand away when he reached over and gently pinched his cheek.
“Awe you look cute. Don’t be so moody.”
“I’m not as photogenic as you.” Keith averted his gaze from the group. Silently plotting how to get that photo from Pidge.
Lance laughed, that stupid laugh. The laugh that made Keith’s cheeks heat up. The laugh that Keith would do anything to keep hearing no matter what. The laugh that Keith didn’t- no, couldn’t lose. God, he couldn’t lose Lance.
“You’re attractive mullet. You’re just not used to seeing yourself.” Lance ruffled Keith’s hair, a small smile on his face.
Keith didn’t know what to say and scooched himself away from Lance, forcing himself to look at the TV. His heart beating out of his chest.
—
“Want some more?” Hunk held an almost empty bottle of wine towards Lance, a drunk smile on his face.
“I shouldn’t but…” Lance trailed off.
“But what?” Hunk pried in a playful manner.
Lance laughed, “But fuck it! We’re on vacation!” He held his glass closer to his best friend and watched the red liquid fill the cup.
Hunk put the nearly empty bottle down between the two of them and they fell into a silence.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Lance mumbled, his head titled toward the sky.
“The moon?” Hunk mumbled back.
Lance hummed, “hasn’t aged a day.”
Hunk chuckled, “Still your first love?” He bumped his shoulder into Lances in a playful manner.
“Haha, very funny. I should have never told you that.” Lance took a swig of his wine, Hunk doing the same.
“Speaking of love,” Hunk lowered his voice to a whisper, keeping his voice between the two of them. Despite the closed window separating them from the outside and inside of the house. “How are you in that department.”
Lance’s heart jumped from his chest into his throat and he did his best to swallow it down. “Oh you know,” he forced his eyes up. Looking at the stars twinkling above. “Pretty dry…but hey it won’t be like that forever.” He released a laugh, hoping Hunk didn’t hear the wetness behind it.
“Lance?” Hunk whispered, his voice holding a knowing tone.
Lance quickly downed his drink, hastily pointing to a set of stars, “That’s Orion's belt!” He belted out, cutting off anything Hunk was about to say. Missing the frown that fell on his best friend's face.
“Yeah, I see it buddy.”
The rest of the night passed in a blur and both of them climbed back into the house from the roof as the sun came up. Lance stumbled into his room as quietly as he could, freezing as soon as he saw Keith’s sleeping body. He found himself just standing there, watching. In hindsight, it was a creepy thing to do but he was drunk so he wasn’t thinking clearly.
Lance finally stepped forward and crawled into bed next to his friend. Keith almost immediately pressed his face into Lance’s chest.
Lance could only focus on his heart, pounding in his ears. He gently pushed a couple of strands of hair behind Keith’s ear, suddenly becoming overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him.
Keith looked so peaceful, gentle, and safe. Lance had grown to truly love him.
He loved him.
Lance closed his eyes and wrapped his arms tighter around Keith; holding him.
Feelings aside, he knew he had to start pulling back so Keith could find someone he actually liked. And Lance could move on.
—
“And a vanilla cone for you.” The gentleman with bright red hair and a middle lip piercing held out a napkin-wrapped cone toward Keith.
“Thanks,” Keith stepped off to the side, letting Lance wait for his cone next. Pidge and Matt were nowhere to be found. Hunk and Shay were sitting on a bench if too the right, sharing a banna spit with each other. Shiro and Adam were having a debate on whether ice cream cones or milkshakes were better. A constant debate that Keith didn’t understand because they were both ice cream.
He tried to focus on his own cone, ignoring the jealousy that turned in his gut. He wanted to be in love. He wanted to share a dessert with someone and have a dumb debate that didn’t lead to an argument. He wanted something real.
But he knew he wanted Lance like that.
He had been thinking more about it since his talk with Shiro on the hike. He liked Lance, that wasn’t a secret. He would even dare to say that they were very compatible in almost every department. He knew he didn’t want to ruin their friendship and he was terrified of telling Lance that he liked him. But what was the worst that could happen? Lance rejects him and they keep living their life? It might make the fake breakup easier to process and apply to real life. He couldn't lose Lance but he also couldn't drag himself through this fake love forever.
He frowned slightly, repeating what Shiro said in his mind. “You’re right, but I can see it in his face. He likes you, Keith. More than I think you realize. Hell, maybe even he realizes.”
Shiro was usually right about things like that. He clocked that Adam liked him long before Adam even figured out that he was gay. He had almost a 6th sense when it came to feelings. So, maybe he should trust Shiro in this regard?
He fought back a sigh, silently coming to the conclusion that when the 11th month of their fake relationship and lease hit, he would say something. He would finally confess. Even if he was scared, he was going to do it.
Lance’s flustered laugh made its way through the air, breaking Keith from his internal monologue.
His eyes snapped to his friend, his heart skipping a beat as soon as he registered what he was seeing.
Lance was rubbing the back of his neck, a soft smile on his face, his head ever so slightly tilted to the left.
Keith held his breath, unknowingly until his lungs ached. He stood there, unmoving. Not even registering the ice cream dripping onto his fingers. Just watching. Watching Lance and this, he shifted his eyes, mystery man talk.
Maybe he could have heard what they were saying if he forced himself to focus. Or if he had been born with the ability to regulate his emotions like so many of his peers could do easily. Okay, he knew you weren’t born with that skill but the instructions to obtain it were unclear to him.
Currently, Keith was imploding on the inside, which seemed dramatic but that stance said more to Keith than anything. That stance Lance was holding was his-
“Keith?” Shiro placed his hand on his shoulder, effectively forcing Keith to take a breath. Nearly choking on the action in the process. Shiro quickly moved Keith to a bench, making the action seem normal, and calculated.
Adam pressed some napkins into Keith’s hand and took a seat next to Keith.
“What’s going on buddy?” Shiro dropped his voice, keeping the conversation between the three of them.
Keith swallowed around nothing, focusing on keeping himself calm and collected. “That stance.” He tried to nod his head toward Lance, unsure of how clear he made the action.
“What? Lance wanted to leave the conversation?” Adam questioned.
Keith shook his head, “No, I know that stance. That’s his…” he chewed on his lower lip briefly, “someone flirting with him' stance.”
Shiro and Adam both made noises of acknowledgment.
“Doesn’t mean he’s flirting back right? He’s a good-looking guy with attention issues,” Shiro joked. Trying to lighten the mood.
Kieth wanted to agree, he was going to agree. Until the mystery man handed Lance his phone, which Lance too with a wide smile. His fingers flew across the screen. He gave the phone back with a wide grin and made his way towards Hunk, a small jump in his step. Seeming to be unaware of Keith and his obvious emotional turmoil.
“Were you going to confess?” Adam took a swing of his milkshake and Kieth could feel Shiro’s eye-roll without looking at him.
“Way to be subtle, Adam,” Shiro whispered harshly.
“What? He’s a direct kid, it’s better to be direct. Right, Keith?” Adam shot back.
“Uh yeah.”
“Yeah to Adam’s question or yeah you were going to confess.
Keith hesitated, “both.”
“It’s not too late,” Adam said. “Flirting doesn’t mean you lose your chance.”
“He gave him his number,” Keith said back. His brain trying to convince him to simply run away and never speak to Lance ever again. He didn't want to deal with these emotions.
Adam shrugged, “maybe they bonded over something. Plus, Shiro has gotten plenty of numbers from people, it doesn’t mean anything.”
Shiro hummed in agreement, “Sometimes it just is an ego boost.”
“Okay,” Keith took a shaky breath, “I’ll still tell him. I just need time.”
“You have time, just take it day by day.”
“I’ll try.”
---
Unsure when the next update will be, won't be as long of a break as before. I work 7 days a week so I only have so much energy to write
Summary: Keith and Lance are children with the weight of the world on their shoulders. At only 16 and 17 years old these children were made Paladins of Voltron, Blades of Marmora, Saviors of the Universe. Those weren’t titles meant for children.
Word Count:6.1k
Requested By: n/a
Warnings/Tags: Angst, Fluff, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Pining Lance, Lance is a mess, Insecure lance, Galra Keith, Keith is bad at feelings, Keith is a mess, Blade of Marmora Keith, Blade of Marmora, Naxzela, pining keith.
Author’s Note: listen, i know i never write anymore. But, shit happens you know?
I’m taking requests and commissions again though so hopefully that will change, i have menus posted on my linktree. You can Instagram message me ( @greyfixx ) or email me ([email protected]) and i’d be happy to write your stories. Thanks guys!
Ao3, Tumblr
Lance wanders the castleship often now. He spends much more time walking around aimlessly than doing anything productive that’s for sure. Hunk and Pidge seemed as though they were always making some revolutionary advances. Always inventing something or tweaking something. Lance could never keep up.
Allura seems as though she always has some diplomatic stuff to tend to with Shiro. If you asked Lance, he’d tell you that’s just an excuse so they can do whatever they do when they're alone. Plus, hanging out with Shiro is like, well it is, hanging out with your commanding officer. It’s hard for me to be comfortable. He would hang out with Coran sometimes, helping with some of the castle maintenance. It almost reminded him of being back home doing the chores. He never thought chores would be something he missed.
Still, when the lonely day was done, he had to return to the cold sterile room. It was so lifeless. Despite the trinkets he’d collected from his travels strewn around the room, the lived in clutter, it still didn’t feel like his room, no matter how hard he tried. Pictures weren’t as prominent in space, he’d noticed, at least not hard copies or for decoration in general. I guess they went completely digital a long time ago. So it wasn’t common for one to have photos of their family hung up around their homes. He wonders if people keep photos of their families outside of earth, or if it isn’t something people generally care about? For Lance, who’d spent his whole life surrounded by his siblings, it was so terribly lonely. Almost like living in a hospital room that never had a visitor.
So he slept in his cold white bed with his thin sheets and flat pillows. He wore his thin pajamas and the unreasonably comfy castle bathrobe. This was his new normal. His new home. He’s always been so grateful for his family, the original one, and the new ones he had created along the way. That’s what made him so sad, that he had a whole family here and he still felt alone.
It wasn’t always like this. Lance suspected that they didn’t really have enough time to worry about it as things changed. Now, between battles, there is silence. What does the silence hold for the soldiers in the war? These are the thoughts that plagued Lance as he fell asleep.. There weren’t many sweet dreams on the other side of the unconscious curtain waiting for him.
This is how he had felt since Keith had left. On the outside they seemed to be all bitter arguments, competitive bravado, and rivalry. They both knew though, that on the inside, they were closer than anyone else on the team. And that was their business. Their banter was just that, banter. It only takes a little bit of care to see the flirting smiles and friendly wrestling through the veil. When the fighting is done and it’s time for the brains behind the scenes, Keith and Lance learned to stay out of the way. They weren’t geniuses, or commanders, or Royalty. This wasn’t their job.
Each evening he spends longing for the company he wishes he had. He wishes for just one night things could be back the way they were. He wishes that if he does have to be lonely, he shouldn’t have to be the only one. . He considers it. He also considers the embarrassment of it. Calling the Blade of Marmora Headquarters to talk to his friend because he misses him? They’ll laugh and hang up. Probably give Keith shit for it, and i don’t want to mess things up for him. We’re soldiers. We’re supposed to be doing more with our time than talking to our friends on secure military lines.
He accepts his fate.
Though it may be silent between battles, for those who are much more than soldiers it was time to make a lot of noise.. Building a good public image. Recruiting to the cause. Diplomacy, gaining allies. Creating a Coalition.. Coran had them traveling to a new planet each and every day putting on shows and meeting people. Selling Voltron.
It wasn’t a big deal in the beginning. Just a script reading here and there, and Lance always loved Drama as a kid, so he was more than happy to comply. It felt like filming a cheesy TV commercial, and it was fun. Over time, as the audience got larger and larger, Coran got more intense. Their characters became perverted versions of themselves. Lance was now “Loverboy Lance.” He was nothing but a good looking airhead. There wasn’t anything more to him than his ability to get laid everywhere he goes. Because that’s all it takes to be a Paladin of Voltron, apparently.
Coran had become increasingly erratic. He’s talking differently, and twitches everywhere he goes. He’s taking dangerous risks, not only with diplomacy but with their safety.
Lance was starting to believe that that’s who he was. Maybe he is the only one who hasn’t noticed yet. He isn’t anything but who they believe he is. Loverboy. What is a loverboy without love? Just a boy. Just a boy in a play. Just a boy with the weight of the world in his universe. Just a boy. Alone. In a hospital room.
When Lance realized that the pressure of being a part of this war drove Coran to believe he needed a brain worm to do the right thing or to be good enough. Coran, the purest being on this ship, resorted to drugs to be as good as everyone else. Lance knew he was lonely too. He wanted it to stop, because though he didn’t care too much about himself, he certainly cared about his family.
So Lance grew angry. He was so angry all the time that his family was diminished into nothing but comic book characters. His best friend is depicted as nothing other than comedic flatulence. Pidge rendered a fraud who uses fake words. They aren’t recognized as the amazing scientists they truly are. They should be. Keith. He made Keith all angry and lonely. Can’t he see, that’s not who Keith is.
Keith has raw power and talent. He’s the potential to do something amazing for the world. He’s an anomaly and he is so important. There is no one more important than him.
Lance is the one filled with anger and sadness and loneliness.
Keith is hopeful.
And things keep piling on. He is lonely. He is sad. He is angry. And Hope is gone.
Laying on his gurney in his cold hospital room, in his magical alien castle, Lance picked up his space tablet and dialed the space number for the secret space soldiers.
DIAL
Lance called the Blade of Marmora’s direct communications line.
“State your Business.” Spoke a dark gravelly voice.
“I’m Lance, Blue Paladin of Voltron. I’m calling to speak to Keith Kogane? The red Paladin of Voltron?” He was shaking. This is pathetic. How could he be doing this right now, there’s no way Keith would want to talk to him. He’s probably got a bunch of new muscle-y galra friends.
“Should I provide you with his direct communications line?”
Lance froze for a moment. Why wouldn’t he be able to call Keith? Why would the Blade stop him from communicating with his Paladins? That would be ridiculous. “Um yeah, yes please, that would be great, um, yeah.” He stammered out in rapid succession.
He rattles off a bunch of numbers and symbols that Lance makes sure to write down before speaking again. “Will that be all?”
“Um yes, thank you so–”
Beep.
He hung up on me!!
Once he got over the scandal that was the rudeness of what could only be referred to as the ‘galra receptionist,’ he sat in silence for a while. He stared at the string of numbers and symbols. “Keith’s Direct Communications line.” He doesn’t really know what stopped him from getting it before.
It wasn’t long before he typed the number into his tablet.
!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL
!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL
!0070/01812/12-12! → DIAL
He hit the flashing dial button before he could talk himself out of it.. Inter-Galaxy phone calls didn’t have a dial tone like on earth. There’s a loading screen. If the person you’re calling hasn’t answered by the time the circle is filled, the signal will be canceled and the call will drop. Messages can be sent as well but it wasn’t customary to have your tablet on you at all times, as it would be with a phone on earth. It’s more like having an I-Pad instead of a phone. If you really wanted a response it was best to call.
The circle is barely filled in when the screen explodes in color. It was Keith. His brows furrowed and lips pursed for a moment, until his eyes widened and his teeth showed. He smiled. That wasn’t at all what Lance was expecting.
“Hey, Keith. It’s been a minute.” His voice wavers as he speaks.
“No shit! Is everything okay? You’ve never called before-” he started to look concerned again.
“No! No not at all…” He trailed off. He knew if he said this he would never hear the end of it, but he didn’t want to start the call on such a negative note. He went with what can be interpreted positively.. “I missed you man. It’s lonely around here when you’re gone.”
Keith laughed. When he caught Lance’s eyes and realized that he wasn’t smiling with him, his face dropped. “You don’t mean that?”
“Of course I do. Everyone here is so much smarter and more important than me. I hang around on my own most of the time.”
“I thought I was supposed to be the lone wolf. You’re usually a social butterfly.”
“Everyone’s so busy I don't want to bother them.”
“Well I haven't changed from my lonely ways, so you must annoy me like the butterfly you are.”
“...What?” Lance held back his laughter.
“Shut up.”
“The butterfly I am.” The smile seeped through and before he knew it the both of them had dissolved into hysterics.
“Shut up. I missed you too. I don’t exactly fit in here.”
Before Keith could get another ‘shut up’ out Lance teased,“Are you sure it isn’t just because you aren’t purple?”
“I’m pretty sure that was a little bit space racist.”
Lance gasped.
They talked for hours upon hours. They smiled and laughed until they felt their cheeks go raw and their abs get sore. They talked until their faces turned stoick and they had run out of good things to talk about. They talk until things get serious, and then they keep talking.
Keith tells Lance how he feels worthless because he has always been a prodigy at the things the BoM excel at. The things that Earth doesn’t hold as honor the way the Galra do. Now, he’s nothing special.
Lance tells Keith how he feels like he’s been deluding himself into thinking he belongs. He tells him how he doesn’t believe he’s a true Paladin, and that he’s probably just a placeholder for him or Allura. That the persona that the public has for him as ‘Loverboy’ is so entirely impossible because the only person he loves is so far away that he can’t even tell him that every day.
They talk about how lonely they are. And they promise each other that though things can never be perfect, they will always keep each other company.
However, as many hours as they wish they could spend together, everything comes to an end. Keith has private training early in the mornings and the Castleship will be landing in a different timezone. So for Lance, first thing in the morning is about 4 in the afternoon (If you think about earth time, measurements are fine and dandy in altean, but dates are hell.) and he has to go straight to a diplomatic dinner party.
They say their goodbyes, and part with smiles on their faces.
When Lance turns over on his bed, his pillow is wet until the morning. Or 4 O’Clock in the alien planet’s evening He wakes up sore from his hiccupping breaths and dry from the salt on his skin.
Keith on the other hand forces himself to fall asleep immediately. When he wakes up he throws himself into training. He doesn’t apologize to himself or anyone else for the extra bruises he cost that morning. Anyone who spoke to him was met with a scathing comment about their mother. Most stood clear of him that day.
That night was too good to be true.
They spend months in this circle of suffering. Each day they would spend in anticipation of the joy they would feel when they saw each other. By the time they are able to get on the phone, they can’t stop smiling.
The joy lasts for a while. For a few hours. But every night the call has to end. Every night they have to say goodbye again. Every night they come crashing down from their high. They are hit with the weight of the various crises and the pressure only increases with the added emotions. At the end of the call, they have to say goodbye. Every night.
And I can't even say I Love You.
For Lance, the worst part is that no one noticed. He spent his days finally in a better mood, and his friends weren’t phased. It was such a dramatic change, how could a friend not notice the smiles that had grown so scarce. How could they not notice the bags under his eyes were gone, and he was no longer covered in bruises from his early morning training bot sessions. He felt so much better yet to his friends it was as though nothing had changed. Or they didn’t care to notice.
The Blade of Marmora was absolutely baffled by Keith’s change. Though Keith was much better at hiding it, he had learned in his months spent with the Blade that Galra rely on their sense of smell for this kind of thing much more than they would rely on their interpretation of body language. Pheromones change and there is nothing you can do about it. The Galra use it to communicate, though generally in passing the smell is like hearing the hum of conversation in a large crowd.
He didn't notice it at first. He thought he was imagining the stares he could feel grazing the back of his neck. It took one of the other people in his training group giving him shit to realize it.
“You need to learn how to keep your scent under control..”
“... What?”
“You’re scent. We can all tell you’re excited or anticipating, or whatever, you don’t need to broadcast it, have a little control.”
“What do you mean by my scent? You’re sniffing me??”
“Dude what?”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“Ha ha very funny. Just keep it to yourself man.””
“Seriously, I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’m a little bit concerned because on earth we don’t exactly make a habit of smelling each other.””
“Earth?”
“Yeah? Haven’t you noticed I'm not exactly purple?”
“I mean, yeah, but I didn't realize you were from the middle of nowhere. I’ve never even heard of that country.”
“It’s a planet.”
Keith could tell that he is holding back his laughter now.
“The Empire hasn’t gotten as far as my planet yet, so I didn't know I was part galra until very recently.
“I don’t know if i’m the person to explain it to you, i don’t have the greatest understanding of it myself either.”
“Just tell me before someone else does.”
“I think it’s like pheromones? We can smell the hormones and the smell changes with your emotions.”
Keith sighed, before stalking back off to his room. This was the first time he contacted Lance during the day.
Keith: I just found out galra can sense pheromones.
Lance: You wut?
Keith: Apparently depending on our emotions we smell different.
Lance: Can you? Smell emotions?
Keith: I never thought about it. I definitely smell a lot more than humans can. One of the Blades told me that most galra learn to control it. Maybe humans don’t emit strong enough pheromones for me to smell.
Lance: Is it like, rude to have emotions?
Keith: I wouldn’t be surprised. Galra never seemed like a race of emotionally sensitive people.
There were invisible boundaries. To keep them from having too much hope, too much happiness. At first the boundary was just speaking to each other in general, because of course they couldn’t be happy together if they weren’t together.
Lance, evidently, broke that one. Keith wished it were never there in the first place.
Keith was the one to break the next boundary and Lance was overjoyed. He kept his tablet on him at all times, though he was careful not to let anyone see. He wanted to keep this to himself. Just for now.
Each time he got a message from Keith, he had to force himself to not smile. It was becoming a problem. At least for a while.
Soon, not only were the nights terrible, but the days became just as painful. The light drains out of the both of them as they no longer spend their days in excitement to speak to each other but in increasing agony over their distance. Their feelings for eachother grow larger and stronger. So strong that every moment they aren’t allowed to feel it hurts more.
They lose the time to talk. The war is becoming back to back battles once again. Manpower is needed more than ever so not only is Voltron busy, but so is the Blade. The Coalition is a lot, but there is only so much. It’s difficult to organize universe wide diplomatic meetings, even for Allura.
The lows that follow leaving each other bleed into the days when no time can be found to speak. They bleed into the days where all that can be spoken of us ugly. The days of war. Of death. Of sacrifice. The days where the fight for freedom goes on and the soldiers grow weary.
Still the same problems prevailed. Lance’s turmoil continued to go unnoticed. He continued to be invisible in his own home amongst his own family.
Keith longed for his family. For Lance. He wished he could be with them. He wished so hard that it was very apparent to anyone who had a sense of smell worth their salt knew. He was now considered a flight risk. This he scoffed at. As if I’d leave all of you to die just to go home. That’s the catch. His love for his family and his refusal to allow lives to be lost to an empire as vial as Zarkons. He won’t abandon the war, not even for his own happiness.
Then the day comes. There is a planet called Naxzela. It’s primarily a military outpost for the empire. If the Coalition is able to take and free Naxzela from Empire control, they will have gained control of a third of the Galran Empire.
The entire Coalition is gathered, doing their best to stop the Empire, around a planet called Naxzela. They fight with everything they have. Every second, someone dies. Every second a ship falls from the sky, not only on their side, but on the Coalition's side as well.
Voltron is on that planet. Keith’s family is on that planet. Lance is on that planet. Keith fights harder. Another ship drops from the sky. Another. Another. Another. Another.
Voltron returns. Alive. That’s the good news though, an when it comes to war, it never outweighs the bad. They come back with information. They say the planet had been habitable only because of Altean terraforming technology. Haggar had tapped into this technology and turned the planet into a bomb. The battleship is the detonator. Both the planet and the ship are protected by shields.
The whole Coalition opens fire.
Not a scratch.
“Maybe not with our weapons.”
Keith takes off, dodging the lasers he soars directly towards the battleship. If our weapons can’t take down the shields, we need something more. The full force of a Blade of Marmora fighter ship just might work.
If i don’t succeed we will all die. At least this way only one of us is gone. At least this way the pain will go away.
He didn’t close his eyes as he approached his death. He wasn’t afraid. He knew this was the right thing to do. He chose this, he would not shy away from it. So he looked right at the thin purple glow that would be the end of him. He stared and confronted his death. The veil blinked out of existence.
He jerked the ship away and went sailing just by the edge of the ship. He had stopped listening to the commotion on his audio comm. It was time to tune back in.
Lotor.
Lotor had saved his life.
After the battle, Keith finally was able to return to the Castleship. To return home. Immediately when he steps off his ship a force knocks into him and he nearly topples him over. It’s so warm. He can smell him. He really is home.
“You fucking idiot!” Anyone could tell that Lance is screaming, despite the fact that he’s muffled by Keith’s shoulder. “How dare you.”
Keith doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know which words to choose. He is so happy and so sad. So he is quiet.
He is quiet and so is Lance as they walk to the infirmary. They ignore the aftermath of the battle. They ignore the Paladins, the rebels, the Blades. They ignore anyone trying to get their attention. Hand in hand, they are the silence between the battles. Lance's eyes are soft when the pod closes. Keith is glad that is the last thing he sees before falling into a deep sleep.
It is three days before he leaves the pod. Lance waits there in the infirmary the whole time. Coran says that most of his injuries weren’t from the battle. There were minor bruises, sprains, even some fractures from weeks past littered across his body.
Lance waits for three days and he doesn’t say a word to anyone besides Coran when he’s questioning after Keith’s progress. Even then his speech is limited. This is when his family finally notices they’ve missed something.
Over these three days Lance practically moves in. One of the gurneys is claimed as his. The white floors are littered with the tissues he hasn’t bothered to pick up. The bowls and spoons he used for the occasional food goo have created a pile in the corner. There are five blankets. Two on Lance’s gurney (he’d always thought they were too thin) and three laying on the floor just by Keith’s pod. One to lay on, two to keep him warm when he sleeps on the cold white metal.
He spent a lot of time thinking, while he waited. He thought about a lot of things. Mainly how he almost lost Keith. He almost lost Keith before he was even able to tell him how he truly feels. He spent a lot of this time regretting. He regretted not telling him the most. They both knew. They knew their lives were on the line and they made that their reason to live in fear. They chose that as their reason to not take responsibility for themselves, their reason to run from their own feelings, their reason to punish themselves.
This is war. Lance realized. This is war, and I am brave enough to be fighting it. I should be allowed to love before I die.. Especially if I'm risking my life for theirs. To make sure they don’t have to. If I die out here I don't want to die in regret, never having lived my truth.
The fourth morning he laid awake on his blankets staring up at Keith. He didn’t look ill at all anymore. He must be almost completely healed by now, he looked just like the Keith that had left. Almost. He had grown taller, his hair had gotten longer. He joked about it being a mullet before, but now it was more than long enough to be braided. He wished he could, it was something he did for his sisters back home.
His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the electronic schwooop of the pod-shield lowering. He doesn’t have time to get up on his feet before Keith is toppling down.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Lance says immediately, when Keith falls into his arms. He holds him tightly. It isn’t long before Keith does the same. They both know that Coran and Allura would have been alerted to Keith’s discharge from the pod and would be heading down to check on him. They took the time they had alone to hold onto each other.
“Is this real?” Keith asks, his voice is so meek. So thin and quiet.
“Yes, my love. This is real. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Keith melts into Lance's arms. “I’m home?”
“You’re home.”
They hear footsteps outside the infirmary door before they see anyone. They aren’t surprised to see the whole team walk in. They would all want to see Keith when he was better. Lance wasn’t the only one who had missed him. He was family.It would be wrong if they didn’t want to see him after the stunt he’d pulled either.
Shiro is the first to stalk into the room, with his big muscular body and his big powerful steps. “What the hell is going on here Lance? You’ve been uncollaborative and disrespectful for long enough. It ends now.” He shouts in his best commanding officer voice.
Keith flinches. Lance squeezes him for a moment, before standing up. “You lost your right to give me orders. If i’ve been ‘uncollaborative and disrespectful’ then it’s obviously been a long time since you’ve looked in a mirror. Especially when your reaction to seeing your brother for the first time in months fall out of a pod because he nearly killed himself.”
Shiro opens his mouth to speak only to be cut off. This time it is Coran.
“I think he’s right, Shiro.” His voice is tense and serious. This never happens. “Let the boy speak.”
Lance almost smiled. It seemed, recently, that Coran was the only one who truly cared. At the very least, he understood.
“Keith almost dies, and your reaction when he comes out of a pod, three days later probably still coming down from an adrenaline high not only from his near death experience but from the drugs that pod pumped him full of. Your brother comes home from zero contact and your reaction is to storm in and make demands?” Lance speaks to his family. He speaks to his family in a situation other than battle for the first time in weeks. Months. “You really think you’re the one who deserves answers?”
Lance kneels next to Keith once again. “You need food, water, and to relax.” His voice was soft now. “Do you want to go back to the bedrooms and wait for me there?”
Keith stands up. “I’m going to stay here. With you.” Same old Keith he sounds like. Only Lance could hear the slight quiver in his voice.
“Lance?” Hunk spoke, concerned, “Buddy, what’s going on? What are we missing?”
Lance almost laughed. It was a surprise to him. He hadn’t smiled without Keith in a long time. This wasn’t the context he wanted that to happen under. “What have I been doing?” He said decidedly.
Hunk looked confused.
“What do you mean by that?” Pidge.
“These last few months. What. Have. I Been. Doing>”
“The same as the rest of us.” Pidge spoke in that matter of fact way of hers.
“Yeah, you helped with the performances. You're loverboy Lance!”
“Exactly. I was Loverboy Lance. That explains so much.” Lance decides that they won’t ever realize on their own. He must open their eyes himself. He must be the one to hurt them. “When have you ever seen me do more than flirt with someone? When was the last time I went home with one, or brought one here? Hell, when was the last time I went on a date?”
Silence.
“I flirt. I sign autographs, I joke, and I tease. I have never been a player. I’ve never been Loverboy Lance, not in the way we showed the public. That’s not who I am. Just the same as any of you. Hunk, you are so much more than comedic flatulence, Pidge you aren’t a fraud you’re a genius and you know enough words to fill the script with that the audience will go home knowing how to turn their garbage disposal into a roomba. Allura, you’re your own Paladin, not Keith and there are so many amazing things about you that would make you just as interesting as Keith.
“Keith isn’t the Lone Wolf. He’s just lonely, he always has been. None of us ever pur in the effort to change that, so why would he in return?” Lance turned to Hunk. “You were my best friend, Hunk, and this hurts so much. It hurts so much to know that you can’t see me for who I really am. I look at all of you and see my family and then I wonder, where did you go?”
“I spent these last few months in Silence. I knew I wasn't good enough to keep up with you Pidge, Hunk. So I stayed away. I knew I would never live up to your expectations, Shiro, so I didn't bother with you either. I knew you didn’t want me around Allura, so I didn't stick around. I knew i would be left behind.
“Eventually I stopped speaking.”
Lance stopped then. He took a deep breath. “None of you noticed. My own family had made me feel as though I didn't belong, and so I stopped belonging. Of course you guys were so caught up in being amazing that you didn’t notice. That much I don't care about. This is what is important.
“How old are you, Pidge?”
“I’m fifteen, you know that.”
“Hunk?”
“17.”
“Back on earth, none of us would be considered an adult. We wouldn’t be allowed to go through the airport alone. We wouldn’t be allowed to buy alcohol. We wouldn’t be allowed to have an input in our government. We would be children.
“Here, on this ship, far away from our planet. We are war heros. We live in a castle that doubles as a spaceship, or a spaceship that doubles as a castle, and we are Paladins. We fight in battles on a larger scale than any one of our ancestors have ever fought in. We are soldiers.”
Lance could feel the tears streaming down his face. “More importantly though, we are children.”
Lance stalked out of the room.
Keith followed. Even when he’d caught up, Lance didn’t slow down. He was sobbing now. Just like he had each night when they ended their calls. This time, however, Keith was there. This time he could intertwine their fingers. “Lance.”
When they finally arrived at Lance's bedroom, hospital room, whichever you prefer it’s all the same to him,they both sat up on the bed. Keith held Lance as he cried. He cried and cried and cried and cried. They didn’t know how long they’d been there, but it didn’t truly matter. What did matter was that they were together. Between the sobs Keith could hear Lance mumble something just clearly enough to respond.
“I love you too.”
Lance looked up, those deep blue eyes so sad and so afraid, yet so full of hope. He looked intensely at Keith. “We are just children, I did mean what I said back there. We could die at any moment. I don’t want to let that stop us anymore.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I love you Keith, and I don't want to live my life in fear of losing you. I want to use the time we have. This war would last the rest of our lives, whether they end early or decades from now. Why should we waste it?”
Keith had never thought of it that way. He had let the thought of losing Lance consume him so deeply that he’d never thought of how it might feel to have him fully. “You’re right.”
“I want to be with you. At this point I think it’s hurting us more to stay apart than it would to be together. Well I guess it’s hurting me, I can't really speak for you – Wait what did you say?”
“I said you’re right. We should take advantage of the time we have.”
Lance was speechless.
“If you leave your mouth open any longer you might catch flies. I told you you were right, don’t get used to it.”
Lance had been a man of words all night. He was sick of it. He grabbed onto Keith’s jawline and pulled his lips toward his own. He was so warm, like fire against his skin as they kissed. They’d been playing this game for so long. The kiss was the greatest thing Lance had ever experienced, or at least it felt like it in that moment. They kissed for a long time. Longer than they should.
It was Keith that finally broke the kiss. He only broke away for a moment, before burying his face in Lance’s shoulder.
“We have to talk about it, you know.”
“Not now. You make me so happy. I just want to be happy right now. It’s been so long since I've been happy.”
“That’s okay. You’re allowed to be happy. That’s our mission from now on. Happiness.”
They spent the night in Lance's room. They took their last opportunity to relax. After everything that has happened, not only over the course of the last few hours, but over the course of the last few days, weeks, months. They deserve peace, even if only for a moment.
The next morning they walked out to breakfast hand in hand. They had a calm conversation with their team. With their family. They spoke about how they felt so alone. They spoke about how they’ve spent so long being too afraid of death to love each other. They spoke about how they are so scared all the time, but never scared for themselves. They would all die for the cause at a moment’s notice, but they still feared the death of their friends and family.
Everyone shared how they felt, not only Lance and Keith. Pidge shared how scared she was. She was so young. Hunk shared how he felt so guilty for being the cowardly one, and wishes he could be brave like the rest of the Paladins. Allura tells them how she believes that she is only a Paladin because of her father, as though it was some sort of obligation. Shiro expressed that he was so afraid he wasn’t qualified to be the leather of a universal revolution. Coran worries he isn’t useful.
They all feel so alone. So isolated that they couldn’t find comfort in their own family.
They came to an understanding. Allura and Shiro, and Coran realized they were wrong for putting so much pressure on a bunch of teenagers that didn’t know what they were getting into. Keith, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge all realized that they didn’t have to pretend to be braver than they were.
Especially because they were the bravest in the universe.
